A Magic Wand Over This World
by ronniekins77
Summary: The Christmas directly after Voldemort's defeat.
1. A Weasley

**A/N:** This story was written originally as seperate one-shots, but they're all linked to the same Christmas celebration. I wrote this in Dec. 2006, before _Deathly Hallows_ came out, so it's technically AU. I hope you enjoy anyway!

This particular chapter was written for the prompt - Hermione's first Christmas with the Wealeys.

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_Christmas waves** a magic wand over this world**, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful_ -- Norman Vincent Peale

--

_Chapter One - A Weasley_

Hermione sighs contentedly, leaning back in her chair at the sight of the people around her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are sitting on the couch, whispering tenderly to each other; Ginny is sitting in the chair next to Hermione's and she is on Harry's lap, smiling down at his sleeping form; the twins are working on products for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in the corner, showing a delighted Charlie how their "brilliant minds work"; and Bill is helping Fleur make cookies in the kitchen ("Bill, zis is zo difficult! I don't zeenk I like zis!").

It is Christmas Eve and everyone has been working hard all day, readying the house for tomorrow. A few guests are coming over to the Burrow; Lupin, Tonks, Luna Lovegood, and a redeemed (though still completely detestable) Draco Malfoy. Hermione watches the fire, her eyes becoming blurry with tiredness, and she briefly thinks that they are all such a nice family, the Weasleys. They're all red-headed and loyal and willing to lay down their lives for one another. They're stubborn and they fight and they love each other fiercely in spite of that.

Hermione smiles softly to herself, wishing that she was part of their family. She knows she will be technically be a Weasley one day, as she and Ron are engaged, but she wishes that she had a true sign that his family already thought of her as one. Harry already knows that he's basically a Weasley, and he's been told by Mrs. Weasley that he's as good as her own son, but Mrs. Weasley has never told Hermione that she's like a daughter.

Just as her eyes close as these thoughts whirl around in her head, Hermione feels someone touch her shoulder and she looks up to see the face of Ron Weasley peering down at her. A smile spreads across her face and he smiles down at her. "I want to show you something," he whispers, directing a furtive glance in the way of his mother.

Hermione narrows her eyes suspiciously, but stands up and follows him out of the room. They go up the stairs and Hermione opens her mouth to ask where they're going because they've past Ginny's room and still have a couple more floors before they reach Ron's room. Ron simply puts a finger to his lips, beckons her forward, and enters a room suddenly, pulling her in by the hand.

"Ron, what - "

She stops mid-sentence, gasping. "Ron!" she says indignatly. "Are we in your parents' room?"

But Ron strides over to the bed in the room, throws himself down on the floor, and reaches under the bed. Hermione looks nervously to the door and then back at Ron, who is now sitting on the floor with a wrapped present in his hands.

"What are you _doing_?" Hermione says. "We're supposed to open gifts tomorrow morning, not now! You're snooping!"

Ron shakes his head, tossing the present from one hand to the other. "No, I didn't snoop!" he defends himself, standing up and drawing himself to his full height. He towers over her, smiling down at her with that stupid grin, the one that infuriates her and warms her all at once and makes all logical thought leave her brain.

"You're snooping now!" she whispers furiously, backing away from him because she can't believe Ron would do such a thing.

"Fred and George did it," says Ron. "And they told me about a certain present that I think you'd want to hear about. I mean, I suppose it could wait until tomorrow - "

"I don't care what presents you've got!" she says, her voice a little louder.

" - but you know, I was really excited when they told me, and I didn't know if they were joking - "

Hermione continues as if she hasn't heard him. "You're completely unbelievable, Ron, I might expect this from a child - "

" - so I naturally had to come and see, didn't I, and they weren't! And I had to tell you, maybe show you if you want, because you'll love it - "

" - but I thought you had grown up! For goodness' sake, I agreed to marry you! You're supposed to set an _example_ - "

" - because you've never gotten one before...Hermione, are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

Ron stops speaking, and Hermione glares up at him. She lets out a tutting noise and is ready to stalk out of the room, her head held high in the air, when Ron says excitedly, "Mum's made you a Weasley sweater!"

Hermione, her back already turned to him, stops dead. Spinning around ever so slowly, she looks at Ron. Then her gaze turns to the package in his hands.

"I mean, I obviously don't know what color it is or anything, but isn't that brilliant, Hermione?"

He's still staring at her happily and her eyes begin to fill with tears. She can hardly believe it...for so many years she's wanted one, she's watched all the Weasleys and Harry walk around with them on at Christmas, and now Mrs. Weasley has made her one?

She lets out a laugh and goes to hug Ron, all of her anger vanishing as she wraps her arms around him. He knows how long she's wanted one, how her relationship with Mrs. Weasley has sometimes been rocky (during her fourth year in particular), and that this means the world to her. She can't help but to cry a bit into his shirt, but she pulls back eventually and grins at him. "Thank you," she says.

Ron wiggles the gift in front of her. "Don't you want to open it?" he asks playfully.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "No! Honestly, Ron, you shouldn't have showed me..."

"Because now you're so tempted to open it?"

Hermione gives him a reproachful look that doesn't really come off as that reproachfull at all. She takes the gift out of Ron's hands and shoves it back underneath the bed. "Come on, then," she says sternly, waving at him to follow her back downstairs.

Ron grins and she berates him for many things: for even listening to Fred and George in the first place ("You know all they want to do is get someone in trouble!"), snooping around, opening her present and re-wrapping it, and conclusively, going against the "rules of Christmas". She threatens to tell his mother, but Ron knows her words have no real threat behind them.

He knows that Hermione now truly feels like a Weasley.


	2. A Hot Day in Hell

**A/N:** The prompt for this chapter was Harry/Draco and Miscommunication. I couldn't bring myself to make it slashy, so I see it as a grudging start to a friendship. ;)

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_Chapter Two - A Hot Day in Hell_

"What the hell are you doing, Potter?"

"I'm _trying_ to decorate the Christmas tree."

"Well, it looks like you just pulled it out of a rubbish bin."

"Perhaps if you _helped me_ instead of standing there like a useless lump - "

"I've been _trying_ to help you, but you're not listening to what I'm saying! I told you, that angel goes there, not _there_, and that Christmas ball has to be higher, and the tree looks stupid with popcorn kernels going around it!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and caught eyes with Hermione, who looked up from her book and sighed. Harry and Malfoy had been at it all morning long - bickering for bickering's sake. They had been assigned the task of decorating the tree for Christmas, but apparently Harry was the only one doing work while Draco stood by and criticized every little thing he did. Ginny had tried to go help them, hoping to play the peacemaker, but her mother had refused, stating that this had to be a moment for Harry and Draco to bond.

"Bond? Right, that'll happen on a hot day in hell," had been the scoff from Ginny's brother Ron, and she couldn't have agreed more.

The War had ended and Malfoy was on their side now, but he and Harry still despised each other. Malfoy blamed Harry for the deaths of both his mother and father, and the only reason he had accepted Mrs. Weasley's invitation to Christmas was because he had had nowhere else to go. He seemed to be intent on making everyone else miserable, though, and Harry, rather than shy away from confrontation, only egged him on.

It was bloody annoying.

"Damn it, Malfoy!" Harry bellowed furiously, his voice echoing throughout the thin walls of the Burrow.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," said Ginny, climbing off her bed and giving Hermione a significant look. Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron, as if demanding that he join them, but Ron just shook his head as if he didn't want to have anything to do with this. "Coward," said Hermione nastily, before following Ginny downstairs to the living room.

They found Harry and Malfoy standing opposite each other, wands drawn out, and a string of Christmas lights dangled suspiciously in the air between them. "What's going on?" Ginny asked, hands on her hips.

"Malfoy tried to strangle me," Harry spat out, eyes narrowing at the blonde.

Draco smirked. "Yeah, well, it was the only think I could think of to get you to stop talking."

"You're idiots, the both of you," Hermione admonished.

"Stupid Mudblood," Draco muttered darkly under his breath. Harry opened his mouth to jinx him, but before he could Ginny whipped out her own wand and yelled, "Expelliarmus!"

Both Harry's and Malfoy's wands flew into her outstretched hands. She handed them to Hermione, who was trying not to smile.

Dumbstruck, Harry's cheeks grew red with anger and Malfoy's eyes radiated pure hatred. At the same time, they both demanded their wands back. As they started towards her, Ginny raised her wand again.

"Gin?" said Harry, not believing his eyes.

"Look," she sighed, "I know you don't like this stupid arrangement my mum came up with. Neither do the rest of us, because the whole morning we've had to put up with your arguing, your foul insults, and your yelling. You're worse than Ron and Hermione!" Ginny heard a tut of indignation from behind her, but pressed onward. "Honestly, you'd think the two of you were five years old. I don't want to hear it," she added, as Harry opened his mouth to protest. "If this tree isn't decorated within an hour, you'll both meet the fate of my Bat-Bogey Hex."

Malfoy flinched.

Ginny left the room, followed by Hermione. "How'd it go?" Ron inquired, a tone of amusement clear in his voice as he flipped the pages of a Cannons magazine.

"Fine," said Ginny, throwing herself onto her bed once more and picking up her own abandoned magazine.

"Well, thank you, Ginny dear, because they were getting rather argumentative," said Mrs. Weasley, strolling into the bedroom and hanging lights from the ceiling.

--

Back in the living room, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy gaped at each other in shock.

"Your girlfriend's mad, Potter," Malfoy said, his voice filled with a mixture of disgust and awe.

Harry felt a little surge of pride for Ginny. "Yeah," he chuckled, "she is. Care to hand me that red ornament?"


	3. Harry's Kisses

**A/N:** The prompt for this particular chapter was Harry/Luna and Jealousy.

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_Chapter Three - Harry's Kisses_

Luna stands by the fireplace, her cream colored skin glowing by the light of the flames spitting and hissing beneath her. She smiles softly at the amount of Christmas stockings hanging from the fireplace (more than 12, she thinks) and her eyes wander up to the pictures sitting on the mantle. There a number of different pictures, all different sizes and held in different frames, and Luna loves them. The photo in the center is of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had been kind enough to invite her into their home this Christmas. The ones surrounding them are mainly comprised of their seven red-headed children. Luna's eyes linger on a photo of Ron and Ginny Weasley and is not surprised to see that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are in the photo as well; those two have become a part of the Weasley family.

She turns her gaze from the mantle and looks around the room, eyes landing on the real life counterparts. Hermione is talking with Remus Lupin about new laws concerning werewolves and Ron is scowling at his twin brothers for having just played a prank on him involving feathers and glue. Ginny is holding a mug of butterbeer in her hands, giggling next to Harry, who seems happier than Luna has ever seen him. When she'd met Harry, he had been a bit angry at the world and laden with the responsibility of saving the world from Voldemort. She hadn't actually seen him _smile_ until a whole year later when he started going out with Ginny Weasley.

Luna grimaces ever so slightly when Harry holds up a sprig of mistletoe and holds it above Ginny's head, then bends down and gives her what looks like a very good snog. Immediately a chorus of groans break out across the room. Ginny blushes, but Harry grins triumphantly at them all. "It's Christmas! I LOVE YOU ALL!" Luna looks at the mug in Harry's own hands and wonders if Fred and George spiked it with Firewhisky. Harry seems to be lighter than air as he bounces around to everyone, holding mistletoe over their heads and kissing them. Mrs. Weasley giggles like a girl when Harry kisses her on the nose and Hermione freezes awkwardly when Harry kisses her on the forehead, only to smile at her friend's happiness when he pulls away. "RON! MY BEST MATE!" Harry says loudly, nearly tripping over his feet to get to Ron. He gives him a big kiss on the side of his face and Ron looks utterly horrified, which makes everyone in the room laugh harder.

It is around a half hour later when Harry finally sobers up. He and Ginny are curled together in the same chair and Luna feels like someone is hitting her with a small hammer directly in the chest. She doesn't know why she is suddenly having this outburst of feelings for Harry Potter, only that she doesn't like it. And she doesn't like the fact that he's with Ginny and not her.

Luna swallows the lump in her throat as she exits the living room and goes into the kitchen. No one is there at the moment and Luna just needs to breathe. She sits at the Weasley's crooked, dented wooden table and taps her fingers lightly on the surface. She wishes she could talk to someone about this. Ordinarily she would talk to Ginny, but she is out of the question obviously. Hermione was another option, but Hermione got on a lot more with Ginny than she did Luna. Luna wishes Neville were here; he was a good friend who was always willing to listen to her talk. But, alas, Neville was spending the holiday in France with his grandmother.

"Luna?" She looks to the door to see Harry framed in the doorway, smiling. His green eyes sparkle and Luna notices that he has the tiniest dimple in his cheek. He's wearing his Weasley jumper and his black locks are a mess, sticking out at various angles around his head.

"Hi, Harry," she says, standing up. "I just needed to think for a minute."

Harry nods and walks closer to her; Luna hopes he doesn't hear her heartbeat. When he speaks a moment later, his voice is gentle and low. "Luna, I'm really sorry about your father," and tears spring to her eyes as she remembers how the Death Eaters broke into his home and killed him with a swift _Avada Kedavra_. "He was a great man." Luna looks up at Harry, and it dawns on her - he's sought her out because he thinks she's thinking about her father.

"Thank you," she says quietly.

"No, Luna," Harry says, and he shakes his head slightly. "Thank you for being by my side during all of this. Thank you for being my friend."

And her eyes begin to burn, because the deepness of his voice is so sincere and it's too much for her. She doesn't respond, only stares up at him, and Harry senses that the moment is getting a little too serious. He brings his hand from behind his back and grins boyishly as he holds up the mistletoe above her head.

Luna is a bit unbalanced when Harry takes another step towards her, because she's nervous and anxious at the closeness, and he rests his broad hands on her small shoulders to steady her. And then, bending down, his lips softly brush across the right corner of her mouth, and Luna breathes in his scent - broomsticks and cinnamon and chocolate - and he pulls away.

"Happy Christmas, Luna," he says and she smiles.

--

**A/N:** For some reason, I've always liked the idea of Luna being slightly infatuated with Harry, Ron, or both of them. I just feel like she would get attached to those who show her affection, since she has so little of it in her life. But I think the number one guy for Luna will always be Neville. :D


	4. No Need for Mistletoe

**A/N:** ... and the fic ends with Ron/Hermione. Of course. :)

The prompt was Mistletoe and Candy Canes.

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_Chapter Four - No Need for Mistletoe_

Ron was pretty much positive that his whole face was beet red; neck, ears, cheeks...

Yup, his best mate was heartily drunk and had just placed a big one on his face. Oh, Harry. Ron grinned at his friend as the room roared with laughter, knowing that Harry was the happiest he'd ever been. How could Harry not be? Voldemort was gone, he was back together with Ginny again, and it was bloody Christmas.

Ron's eyes darted across the room to seek out Hermione. From the expression on her face, he could tell she was feeling the same way. His grin went wider as Harry kissed Lupin, but his eyes went to Hermione again. She was laughing merrily and Ron's breath hitched a bit at how beautiful she looked. Her hair, bushy as ever, seemed to glow honey brown, curls wildly darting out at random places, and he itched to tangle his hands in it. Her eyes were the color of milk chocolate, and not suprisingly were shining with tears of happiness. Her smile was definitely wider than his own, and the Weasley jumper she wore made her look absolutely ravishing.

Ron didn't know how long he'd been staring at her, but she caught his eye again and held his gaze. He felt like she could see through him, which, he realized, she probably could, and that wasn't helping his skin to get back to its pale color. Hermione ducked her head a bit shyly, a red tinge spreading across her own face.

Everyone in the room laughed as Harry kissed Fleur Delacour and she turned pink. And at about this time, Ron reckoned his best mate's had the right idea.

He inclined his head very slightly toward the stairs, but enough so that Hermione saw him. She did and started walking in that direction. It was a few seconds before he followed her, his long legs making the way up towards his bedroom. When he got there, he stared stupidly at Hermione for a little longer, before she brought something from behind her back.

Mistletoe.

She stood on tiptoe to hold it over his head and he admired her greatly because this was a great feat, considering how bloody tall he was. He grabbed her wrist and guided her arm to rest at her side and he bent down, hovering close to her lips and twining his fingers through his. "Now, Hermione," he whispered, practically trembling at how close they were, "you know very well it doesn't take a ruddy plant to make me want to kiss you."

Hermione didn't say anything, merely tossed the mistletoe onto his orange bedspread, and Ron touched the soft fabric of her purple Weasley jumper. She shivered a bit and he drew her to him, and she placed her hands on the top of his chest.

And then their lips met.

Kissing Hermione had always been bloody brilliant. Their first kiss had been the night of Bill and Fleur's wedding. They had finally gotten to the point of expressing their feelings for each other and the kiss had been sweet and nerve-wracking and it had had so much weight behind it, like it was the beginning of something extraordinary. Ron could remember afterwards, hunting Horcruxes with Harry, that he and Hermione hadn't had much time to kiss or anything else, but there had been pecks on the cheeks and on the tops of heads. And there had been one moment when he and Hermione had been arguing about research and she had looked so sexy all riled up that he had kissed her, despite his anger and irritation with her at the moment, and he had been quite pleased when that had shut her up for quite awhile. Now that all the Horcruxes were destroyed and their lives were getting back to normal, he and Hermione had shared many kisses, each one different than the one previous, each one exciting and surprising and amazing.

This one was no different. Ron felt instantly warm as her lips touched his, again and again, gentle and loving. The happiness she was feeling seemed to pass through the light pressure she applied, and he was perfectly content to respond just as gently. She tasted like candy canes, minty and sweet. Hermione's hands went round his neck and her fingers started playing with the red hair near the nape of his neck and he sucked in a small breath at the feel of it. He mimicked her, his hands immediately going to either side of her head to feel her wild hair in his. He loved the feel of her hair - for even though it might look wiry and bushy and...well, quite scary, it was incredibly soft.

After awhile, Ron opened his eyes and pulled back. Her arms were still around his neck and their foreheads rested against each other. "I love you, Ron," Hermione said, her eyes still shut. "I love you, too," he said back.

And then he grinned and stepped away from the warmth of her embrace. She opened her eyes and looked a little startled at his sudden movement. "What?" she said.

"I forgot, I have your present," said Ron, and he must have looked incredibly boyish because she was looking at him with a very amused expression.

"You do, do you?"

He nodded, walking over to his dresser and pulling out a half-hazardly wrapped box. He glanced down it for a second, shaking his head at his handiwork; he was rubbish at wrapping charms.

"Oh, Ron," said Hermione, her hands clapped to her mouth, "you didn't..."

Ron handed her the box and she took it, looking wide-eyed. "I always knew you were smart," he said, but his tone had reverted back to a state of seriousness. Spotting her shaking hands he said, "I promised you, Hermione. I said I couldn't afford it at the time, but I said you'd have it eventually."

Her eyes darted from the unopened box back to Ron. "But how did you - "

"I worked at the joke shop for awhile," said Ron, raking a hand through his copper hair.

"But - "

"Will you just open it already?" he said indignantly, but he was smiling.

Hermione laughed and complied, gasping very slightly as she opened the velvet box. No sooner than had she managed to slide the ring on her finger, Ron snatched the box from her hands and threw it to the bed, then caught her in his arms and spun her around as she squealed loudly.

"So what are we going to tell your parents?" said Hermione breathlessly when her feet were planted firmly back on the ground. Ron was pleased that her eyes kept focusing on the shiny ring on her finger.

"The truth," Ron said, sitting down on the bed and pulling her down into his lap. "That we're engaged and have been for a few months now. 'Course, we don't have to tell them how I proposed because that's none of their business..."

"No, it's not," Hermione said and he could tell that she was remembering that night as well. It hadn't been the typical way to propose after all. Normally a man got down on one knee, preferably in a candlelit, romantic setting, and produced from his pocket a velvet box holding a very expensive ring. The woman would typically respond by gasping and the man would ask, "So-and-so, will you marry me?" And the woman would cry as she slipped the ring on her finger, saying, "Yes! Yes!" through her tears.

His proposal to Hermione had been almost the exact opposite.

It had been on a top of a steep hill, overlooking a battle between Death Eaters and their family and friends on one side, and another smaller battle which included Voldemort and a few others on the other side. They had seen Harry run up over the hill to get to Voldemort and followed him at once - he wasn't going to do this without them. Racing after him, Ron had halted at the top of the hill briefly, jerking out an arm and stopping Hermione from bolting forward.

"Ron, what are you doing? Harry's down there! He needs our help! Let go of me!" Hermione had screamed.

"If we get through this," Ron had panted, his fingers tightly closed around her wrist, not allowing her to even move, "if we survive..."

"Now is not the time to for this, Ron! We have to GO!"

"...marry me," he had finished, as if there hadn't been an interruption. He let go of her wrist.

Hermione had looked completely stunned for about a millisecond. Then she had let out an angry howl and shouted, "Of course I will, you stupid prat! Now, come ON!"

And she had grabbed his hand again and, together, they had charged down the hill.

Hermione smiled at him now, scrunching up her nose. "I'm not even sure what your mother would say if she found out you had proposed that way," she said.

"Probably something about how war makes people act stupidly because they think they're going to lose someone they care about - " Ron looked very serious for a split-second. " - and then she'd slap me."

He grinned at the laugh he got out of Hermione. "But Mum'll be happy. Dad will be too. They love you, you know."

"Not as much as I love you," said Hermione, apparently quite tired of this talking as she started kissing his earlobe.

And Ron was pretty much positive that he was beet red again - neck, ears, and cheeks - but he didn't care.


End file.
